


Worse Comes To Worse

by billiero666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Other, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billiero666/pseuds/billiero666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way for Sam to dispel Lucifer is pain. And so he causes it. Trigger Warning: self-harm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Comes To Worse

Sam waits until Dean leaves to acknowledge Lucifer, who happens to be sitting in the motel armchair reading Better Homes and Gardens at the moment. Suddenly, the fallen angel speaks up.

"You'll never get rid of me, Sammy. You're stuck down here," he says, hitting almost every one of Sam's triggers with those two sentences. The taller man clenches his fists and goes to his duffel bag, digging in the front pocket until he finds what he's looking for. As Lucifer realizes what he's grabbing, he shakes his head and makes a disapproving clicking noise.

"Come on, Sammy. You never struck me as the emo type. You need me to cue up the Fall Out Boy?"

A note of fear is recognizable in the angel's voice. Maybe because he knows what Sam is doing, maybe because he guesses the worst. None of this matters as Sam rolls up the sleeve of his plaid flannel shirt and takes the razor blade in his hand. He stands right in front of Lucifer, who's put down his magazine and is now watching Sam intently. He wants to see what happens, that's for damn sure. It's the only sure thing in the room as the tension becomes palpable.

"You wanted to see how long I'd last," the man says, "You won't get to." He doesn't put the razor to his skin but holds it just above, a hesitant hover. Lucifer smirks.

"Killing yourself doesn't get you anywhere, love. Just puts you back in Hell with little old me'" he says, laughing a little. Sam just shakes his head as he touches the razor to his forearm, below the elbow but above the wrist. He draws a thin, horizontal

(you'll only die if you cut vertically)

line into his own flesh, blood welling up behind the thin, cold piece of metal. Lucifer flickers a little but doesn't disappear. He is genuinely scared now, panic in his eyes as he stands up, the chair pushed back from the force. He stands right in front of Sam.

"You can't do this," the angel pleads. Sam doesn't say anything as he puts the razor to his skin again. Again, Lucifer flickers but doesn't disappear. Sam clenches his eyes tight, hoping Lucifer at least appears fainter, but he doesn't. Sam draws a lot of lines that night. Eventually, the pain makes his demons go away. But the thing is, demons never truly go away, and even as these ones disappear, they leave more behind. Sam discovers things about himself he never knew. Because there is always a reason to paint lines of crimson on one's own skin. Justifications will always be made.

The demons never leave.


End file.
